


Try, Try Again

by merelypassingtime



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13529421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: Everyone ships Greg and Mycroft, but only the universe can do something about it.





	Try, Try Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrushedRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/gifts).



Anthea tried to push them together by changing the homescreen on Mycroft’s phone and desktop to the photo of a shirtless Greg that had been in the Met’s 2004 annual calendar. It didn’t make him call the detective as she had planned, but he didn’t change the picture back either.

Mummy tried by inviting Greg home for Christmas dinner. A very confused Greg turned her down, wondering if she thought he and Sherlock where that close of friends or if she just felt sorry for him, divorced and alone at the holidays.

John tried by getting Greg roaring drunk and talking him into drunk dialing the British government. If he had thought to bring Mycroft’s phone number with him, he might have succeeded too. As it was, the only result of that night was a spectacular hangover.

Sherlock tried by tempting Mycroft to visit 221B with promises of Mrs Hudson’s biscuits every time the DI was there and texting Mycroft all his deductions about Lestrade’s sexual preferences. This may have worked better if he hadn’t called Greg ‘Gareth’ in the texts.

Molly tried by nervously chattering about how handsome and smart the older Holmes brother was to Greg, hoping to get Greg to confide his crush to her. Unfortunately, this course of action only made Greg think Molly had a crush of her own on Mycroft. Man, he thought to himself, she always seems to go for the gay ones.

The universe tried to get them together by running a series of classic films at the Rooftop Film Club in Camberwell. As Mycroft, carrying his drink and Maltesers, was looking for a open chair in the rapidly filling seating area he spotted a familiar silver head next to an empty spot. He made his way towards it with an uncharacteristic lack of thought, stopping only when he was standing next to the chair, looking at the man bent over the screen of his phone. He cleared his throat before asking, “Detective Lestrade, is this seat taken?”

Greg jerked his head up at the question. “Mycroft! Sorry, I mean Mr Holmes. No, please, sit.”

 

I guess it isn’t so surprising that the universe was the one to succeed.


End file.
